The Charge

Lions, and tigers, and bears...and slugs, and cats, and dogs, and parasites,
and rats, and...sexually confused killers, oh my!

Opening Statement

They say that a dog is man's best friend. They say that people don't own
cats, but that cats own their so-called masters. They also argue that
butterflies are free, that mares eat oats and does eat oats, but little lambs
eat ivy, and if you take away their wings, the birds will have to walk to get
around. Animals and man have such a longstanding species peace treaty that to
see it turn violent and ugly is not very pretty -- entertaining and eerie,
maybe, perhaps even a bit sinister and shivery. But overall, humans and their
four-legged (or webbed, or segmented) friends are happier when they all just get
along. Still, the horror genre is filled with films where the little critters of
the land decide to get back at people for stealing their milk, domesticating
their wilder instincts, and forcing them to feast on ersatz nourishment like
Gaines Burgers (or the dreaded, meat "by-product"...ewww!). Thanks to
Anchor Bay and their ongoing box-set scheme, we get a six-pack of nature gone
nutty (well, a five-pack plus a Dario Argento giallo) that reminds us that
sometimes, the beasties of the backwoods are not our pals. On occasion, they can
turn into Man's Worst Friends.

Facts of the Case

* Parasite (1982): To paraphrase that classic speculative sci-fi
film, Strange Brew, it's Earth, about a billion years after World War
III, and a Peter Allen impersonator is wandering around a post-apocalyptic
laughscape trying to capture a runaway leech. Seems this supersonic internal
sponge was requested by the government as some manner of newfangled weapon.
Sadly, our inventor used himself as a guinea pig, so he must steal the remaining
tapeworm to cure his own inner irritations. He ends up in a one-horse town
overrun with rejects from the Galleria version of The Road Warrior. If
he's not careful though, the burgh will be bursting with one pissed-off
Parasite. Score -- 50

* Zoltan: Hound of Dracula (1977): When a crappy communist
construction crew uncovers Dracula's family plot, one of the digging doofuses
pulls the stake out of the Count's favorite cur. As if by macabre magic, the dog
is reborn, and he finds a way to get his pickled prune of an owner -- also
undead -- to help him scrounge a bowl of Kibbles-'n'-Blood. Next thing you know,
the pair are on a slow boat to California, where they hope to hook up with a
direct descendant of their vaunted vamp. Too bad this clueless cad has decided
to take his family on a camping trip. Zoltan: Hound of Dracula doesn't
cotton to the great outdoors, especially during the day. Score -- 45

* The Black Cat (1981): A psychic scientist who claims to speak
with the dead has a small English town in a tizzy. They mock his mentalist
claims, so he gets back at them via systematic slaughter. But instead of doing
the deadly deed himself, he gets a black cat to spray and slay. That's right,
its time for the world's first kitty serial killer as our felonious feline runs
around the U.K. countryside suffocating carnal couples and setting old sows on
fire. It will take a dedicated U.S. photographer and an inspector from Scotland
Yard to uncover the truth about the puss-'n'-boots badass known as The Black
Cat. Score -- 82

* Slugs (1987): When a small town suddenly finds itself overrun
by slimy savages with a penchant for people, it is up to the Head of Sanitation
and his compadre in civil service, the Health Inspector, to save the day. While
they were trying to figure out how to stop these slaughtering snails, the
citizenry find themselves up to their arses in escargot scat. The mutant mung
bugs just can't stop scarfing down the various locals, and the Mayor and Sheriff
seem oblivious to all those residents resoundingly kicking the bucket. Thanks to
a British scientist with a clear chemical clue, our brave bureaucrats will try
to rid their idyllic city from its problematic plague of Slugs. Score --
80

* Cat O' Nine Tails (1971): When a series of brutal killings
occur at a top-secret research lab, a reporter and a blind crossword puzzle
typesetter become embroiled in the case. The sightless man overheard some
information one night that might be of importance, and the journalist just knows
that this incident is a clue to discovering who is behind the crime. As they dig
deeper into the science conducted by the facility, they learn of bizarre genetic
testing and psychosexual experiments. Someone obviously wants their association
with the clinic covered up, and will go to great links -- even kidnapping and
murder -- to keep their identity clandestine. Score -- 90

* Rats: Night of Terror (1984): Again with the post-apocalyptic
landscape. A group of ragtag outback ruffians saunter into a set from Sergio
Leone's Once Upon a Time In The West and discover that its been overrun
by super-intelligent nuclear rodents. These miscreant mice are starving for
human flesh and our Capt. Walker wannabes will fit the dinner bill nicely. As
our title pests perpetrate killings of incredible corniness, the clueless cast
of Band of the Hand run around pretending to be frightened of guinea pigs
painted with filth. Just when you think the nightmare will be over, a twist
ending right out of Planet of the Apes arrives to slowly send your mind
into meltdown mode. Score -- 55

The Evidence

Sometimes, when you're saddled with a collection of below-par motion
pictures, you've got to find something to keep your cinematic spirits up. Bad
films can foul your mood worse than an excess of sugar or a lack of caffeine (or
any combination thereof). If you're not careful, they can undermine your very
belief in the benefits of movies as entertainment. That is why the "Saving
Grace" was invented. It allows for schlock film fans to cuddle up to even
the most repellant cesspool of celluloid and walk away with most of their sanity
intact. Though the six films in this set offer differing levels of lethalness
(and a couple couldn't kill a fly if they tried), this review will still provide
a calming charm for each movie. Remember them as you dive into the impending
idiocy, or use them as a kind of logic life preserver when your tolerance for
irrationality and inanity has worn out. They may be able to save your filmic
soul, even if your principles are parched along the way. Let's start with one of
the most worrisome wastes in the box:

* Parasite (Saving Grace: A Pre-Breast Job/Ashton Kutcher Demi
Moore) It's hard to say what is worse about this half-baked Alien
ripoff -- the horrendous acting, the less-than-stellar cast, or the future shock
stool sample that passes for science fiction in this underbaked balderdash.
Without ever indicating that we are in a Mad Max-style post-nuclear Hell,
director Charles Band (one of the greatest B-movie hacks EVER!) just starts
tossing in the archetypes (proto-punk gang, wholesome normal girl, sage
shopkeeper, eccentric actress) and hopes it's all a Barter Town Buck Rogers
movie. But since the setting is a one-half stallion burgh that makes the hotel
in Bagdad Cafe look like a major metropolitan nerve center, we don't get
a real sense of Armageddon like End Times. Instead, we keep checking our watches
to see when the film will call it quits.

For those who fancy Demi Moore, she is indeed here to turn on the
titillation. But be warned: this is the frail -- and decidedly flat-chested --
St. Elmo's Fire version of the future vixen at play in this puke. Still,
she is the only interesting thing here -- unless your idea of fun is seeing a
great stage and screen star -- Guys and Dolls' definitive Adelaide,
Vivian Blaine -- slumming away for scale. The effects are laughable (Troma's
Penis Monster is more realistic) and the overall atmosphere replicates a
kind of Six-Gun Territory version of The Deadly Spawn. This is no-budget
bullspit at its most limited and lousy. When even your title terror can't pull
off a decent death scene, there's no reason to stick around for this faux
Futureworld foolishness.

* Zoltan: Hound of Dracula (Saving Grace: A vampire puppy) Let's get one thing straight right up front. This is a really, really, really
bad film. Mega bad. Orca bad. Could have been directed by George Lucas
bad. The characters are laughable, the narrative is annoying, and the entire
premise predisposes that a Cujo with a craving for clots is more frightening
than a typical vampire romp. Unfortunately, our proud pincher in the lead is
saddled with a set of dentures that even Grandpa Simpson would find idiotic. Far
too big, overwhelming the dog's classic features, we end up with something akin
to those photo-enhanced smiling hounds you see littering up dog food ads. As
Zoltan's master, some wrinkled artifact stands around with a glazed look in his
eyes as a nattering voiceover narrative does all the expositional work. Before
we know it, we start praying for the ASPCA to show up and close down the
production. This is one of the few films that can boast a warning label that
says, "MANY dogs were harmed during the making of this movie."

But one minor plot point almost singlehandedly saves the film. During the
initial dog/Dracula material, our title hound snacks on a random puppy. The poor
pooch is found and, since his undead status is unclear, he gets buried. Frankly,
you haven't lived until you've seen a baby German Shepherd rising from the
grave. As the ground moves and the infant furball's sound effects reverberate
across the soundtrack, we get that classic scene from the time-honored monster
movie tradition of the creature crawling out of the dirt. Naturally, it's a tiny
little bundle of oatmeal-scented love, and it's absolutely hilarious. Later on,
after the carnage is completed and all seems right with the world, we are
treated to a return of the vampire puppy, and his closing shot is another
certified scene-stealer. This obvious puppet, with a mouth full of jagged,
snaggled teeth, gives the camera a full on close-up and as the eyes glow with
demonic glee, our Hellspawn hound snarls with full fake-tongue action. It's
aces. Too bad the rest of the film couldn't be this much crazy, campy fun. A
vampire puppy is pure genius. The rest of Zoltan is utter garbage.

* The Black Cat (Saving Grace: A Psychotic Killer Feline that's
Cute as a Button) Lucio Fulci sure loves lapses in logic. As a filmmaker,
he can modify his mise-en-scene to reflect any kind of cinematic style he needs.
From sword and sorcery to straight-ahead mysteries, the mad maestro has a
chameleon-like ability to mimic almost any movie. The only constant in his canon
-- besides his resolute love of bloodletting -- is his nonsensical narratives.
The Black Cat is no exception. Based so loosely on the Edgar Allen Poe
short story that Ethan Allen and Julian Po are both considering suing for
indirect plagiarism, what we have here is a feel-good story about a mad medium,
his uncontrollable rage, and the cat through whom he channels his killer
instincts. The title tiger is a mean little cuss, carving up people with his
non-neutered claws and spraying on victims when they're not looking (a fiend has
got to mark his territory, you know). It's really hard to get a handle on what's
more unbelievable here: that a 10-pound pussy can whip a 200-pound man's ass, or
that everyone in the cast believes it can happen.

Fulci's flummoxing way with a storyline doesn't really rob this movie of its
plentiful pleasures. Up to his usual tricks, the director devises several
splattery death scenes with people finding their faces, hands, and bodies sliced
open by little cat's feet. There is also a nasty bit of immolation, a moldering
nude corpse, and a drunk doing a swan dive onto some construction spikes. As the
mystery gets more and more muddled, Patrick Magee (of A Clockwork Orange
fame) gets more and more Method, shivering and simmering under some of the
rummiest eyes this side of Oliver Reed (if the guy didn't/doesn't drink, he
should start). The rest of the cast (including a few Fulci faves) all play it
straight, believing 100 percent that a kitten with a killing complex can
actually turn adults into tender vittles. It may not pay off in a rational or
reasonable manner (and the last minute bow to Poe's original tale is a stretch
at best), but we sure do enjoy the ride along the way.

* Slugs (Saving Grace: Belligerent City Officials Getting Eaten
by Garden Pests)Slugs is one sick movie. It is stupid and strange,
and filled with some obvious thespian missteps, but when it comes to
slime-drenched dreck, this film delivers in delightful oozy originality.
Director J.P. Simon has crafted a strangely schizophrenic tale of corrupt city
management, bad overdubbing, and unholy worms of hate. Had it been anyone else,
we'd dismiss this delirium as the work of a moviemaking madman. But once you
learn that J.P. is actually Juan Piquer Simon, the director behind the
Mystery Science Theater 3000 favorite Pod People as well as the
cheesy chainsaw epic Pieces, it all starts to make sense. The voices are
odd because this is a Spanish production. The government gripes come directly
from the European tendency toward graft. And the sinister slimeballs? Well, J.P.
will have to answer that one for himself. Still, there is something abnormally
satisfying about this one-dimensional dung heap. For every element that fails,
there's another that's a fabulous disaster.

Simon offers up the most quarrelsome, confrontational set of characters in
the history of a horror film. Every individual we meet has a chip on their
shoulder the size of a sump pump, and can't seem to get over the fact that there
are people with power over and around them. Like office politics gone potty, the
Health Inspector hates the sheriff, the sheriff hates the Sanitation chief, both
dislike the Water commissioner, and the Mayor ain't too happy with the lot of
them. These pencil-pushing putzes argue incessantly among themselves as the
citizenry gets chewed up by leeches with issues. Perhaps part of the problem
with these peons is they are all saddled with gloriously unattractive shrews for
wives. Our garbage man in particular has a spouse who looks 58 (as well as
capable of taking him, two out of three falls) while a friend is hampered by a
harpy with a constant Cognac buzz on. In many cases, the slaughtering slugs are
godsends for the people they peel and eat. Add in some delicious gore (including
a stellar exploding head) and lots of dizzyingly dumb dialogue ("Killer
Slugs!!! What's next? Demented Crickets???"), and you've got a wonderfully
warped view of gardening's grosser side.

* Cat O'Nine Tails (Saving Grace: Dario Argento Doing His
Giallo Thang!) In only his second film, Italian director Dario Argento
further expands the giallo genre by delving into some fairly controversial
subject matter (sexual abnormality and genetic testing) and delivers one of his
best early thrillers. Helping matters along is the expert casting. Karl Malden
does a great job as the blind ex-policemen who overheard something that may be
important to the case. He mixes ability with handicap effortlessly to make us
care about and root for this sightless hero. While a little overdone in the
machismo area, James Franciscus is very effective as the smarmy reporter who
bends the rules to get results. Together they make a great team and, in
Argento's capable and creative hands, we get a crackerjack bit of thrills and
spills. Make no mistake -- this is not Profundo Rosso, Deep Red,
or The Bird with the Crystal Plumage. This is a young auteur spreading
his wings and flapping them freely, seeing how far he can fly.

There are a few mistakes here and there. The character of the niece is kind
of annoying, since she appears to have no other purpose than to provide a last
act threat for the blind man to overcome. Also, the storyline gets convoluted
along the way, especially with all the discussion about XX/XY chromosomes and
the link to violent behavior. Individuals anxious to see Argento lay on the grue
will be disappointed in the rather tame bloodletting this film offers. And the
overall feeling is kind of forced, with the plot pushing along the individuals
involved, not the other way around. Still, as the best movie in this box set,
Cat O'Nine Tails deserves your attention. It shows a new artist getting a
handle on his muse, and a pair of expert actors showing how it is done. It is
easy to see why this film found the Mediterranean master labeled the Italian
Hitchcock. Dario Argento is just that good.

* Rats: Night of Terror (Saving Grace: Ummm...let's
see...ummm...Mutant Rat People of Hate!) Leave it to a paison to piss all
over the good name maestro Argento just gave to that little European boot
nation. Rats is retardation mired by the moronic, a one-note film that
plays that particular sad sound over and over again, off-key and with decided
dumbness. The first major mistake this movie makes is setting its scares in the
future. Ripping off George Miller is one thing, but to borrow from the really
bad mimicry that other amateur auteurs have already foisted on the Mad
Max manner of moviemaking is insane. Apparently, once the great nuclear war
occurs, the surface of the planet will be overrun by badly-dressed Euro-trash.
No attempt is made to give these failed fashion models individual identities.
They go by ridiculous nicknames -- Video, Duke, Lucifer, Chocolate -- and dress
like rejects from the New Romantic era of The Village People (you remember that,
don't you?).

And then there are the rats -- or the oversized hamsters painted up to look
like gray turds. These beasts are not bad, they're adorable -- in a slimy,
beady-eyed sort of way. They have to be thrown at the actors to fake angry
attacks, and are so apathetic most of the time that the movie could be called
Attack of the Killer Snow-Pea Pods and it would be just as scary. In a
move atypical for director Bruno Mattei, there is minimal gore here. Sure we see
a couple of mangled corpses, and one of our nomadic hoodlums burns up real good,
but mostly, we are treated to red splotchy clothing and faces full of fake fur
as the effects highlights. The ending will leave you scratching your head, the
dialogue is the very definition of ersatz action scripting, and the performances
range for over the top to hilariously hysterical. Sadly, this movie just can't
manage to get itself over into the "so bad it's good" category of
crap. Instead, it's an endurance test laced with many mouse droppings. The only
future up for grabs in this dreary little drivel is your propensity to ever look
at Italian horror films the same way again.

As a box set, this is a true 50/50 deal. Half the set is worth a look --
Slugs, The Black Cat, and Cat O'Nine Tails topping the
list. The other half is terrible, junk that gives the concept of a cinematic
compost heap a bad name. In reality, Parasite and Rats are about
the same, so if you like seeing bad attempts at post-apocalyptic social
commentary, or various unattractive actors and actresses running around like
runners-up in the Loverboy costume contest, you may also get a hoot or two out
of these films. Sadly, Zoltan is a true hunk of garbage, a smelly-dog
flop that no amount of vampire puppydom can cure. If push comes to shove, a
horror buff should pick up this set. They will have fun with more than 50
percent of the offerings, and the others can be pawned off on friends as holiday
presents or personal bribes.

As for the overall tech specs, let's label them as sporadic and leave it at
that. Specifically, Parasite is 2.00:1 anamorphic widescreen that truly
looks terrible. That's because this was once a 3-D spectacular and the
out-of-focus facets from that outdated gimmick really gimp up the picture.
Zoltan is 1.66:1 anamorphic widescreen and has a TV-movie-esque feel,
flat and lifeless. Cat O'Nine Tails and Black Cat are presented in
2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen. Tails is terrific, while Black has
some scratches and dirt. Slugs and Rats: Night of Terror are
1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, and both look great. On the sound side, there is
nothing outstanding to report here. Parasite is Dolby Digital Stereo 5.1;
Zoltan, Black Cat, Slugs, and Rats: Night of Terror
are Dolby Digital Stereo 2.0 Mono, and Cat O'Nine Tails is Dolby Digital
Stereo 2.0.

If you're looking for added features, you are barking up the wrong box set.
There are trailers on all six films. Only a few have anything more. Black
Cat has a Fulci biography (text only), while Rats offers a
nine-minute interview with director Bruno Mattei in which he discusses
Rats and Virus (Hell of the Living Dead). Cat O'Nine
Tails is the most fleshed out, with an interview with Argento, writer
Dardano Sacchetti, and composer Ennio Morricone, trailers, TV spots, radio
spots, radio interviews with Karl Malden and James Franciscus, and a Poster
Art/Still Gallery as part of its package.

The Rebuttal Witnesses

It needs to be said one more time -- Dario Argento's Cat O'Nine Tails
does not belong here. The other five films have killer critters at their center.
This movie just has a misleading name, and a connection to two other non-bestial
entries in Argento's Animal Trilogy (The Bird with the Crystal Plumage
and Four Flies on Gray Velvet).

Closing Statement

So the next time you think your ferret is giving you the evil eye, if the
gnats buzzing around your head appear to be conspiring against you, and if the
albino cat in your fish tank appears poised to strike at your jugular vein,
perhaps you should see a psychiatrist. Or maybe, you could pick up a copy of the
Fright Pack: Man's Worst Friends from Anchor Bay. There, you will learn
that stopping a blood-hungry dog is as easy as driving a large piece of wood
through its belly, that slugs hate scientists with forced British accents, and
cats can't stand it when their master overacts. While these lessons may not help
you the next time your raccoon gets his chainsaw going, they may aid in settling
some of your worst nature-based fears. Apparently, no matter how high the odds
are against it, man always seems to win -- unless, of course, you're talking
about a post-apocalyptic landscape where mutant mice and oversized gut worms
want you dead. That is one frigged-up future that no one can survive.

The Verdict

Okay, in a split decision, Cat O'Nine Tails, Slugs, and The
Black Cat are all free to go. Parasite and Rats: Night of
Terror are all held over for further action from the court. Sadly,
Zoltan will be put to sleep, while his puppy will be placed in Hell Hound
Foster Care. Court adjourned.